Scenes from the Cutting Room Floor
by AstraPerAspera
Summary: What bits of SG1 S8 episodes might we have missed because the show ran over the allotted timeframe? Just a few ideas... SamJack ship. More than a little angst. Strictly canon!
1. IntroDisclaimer

**INTRO/DISCLAIMER**

Recently those Stargate fans who have a particular fondness for the Sam/Jack ship were disappointed to learn that a highly anticipated scene from an upcoming episode of Stargate Atlantis had, alas, fallen victim to the editors scissors in the process of trimming the show to fit the allotted timeframe.

In light of this, one cannot help but ponder what other scenes may not have made the final cut of various episodes.

The following collection of scenes _**in no way **_represents any actual scenes that were cut from the show, but are just one writer's interpretation of what, under other circumstances, we might have had the chance to watch.

Please consider this a work in progress.

As always…Stargate SG1, the original episodes these are based on, the characters and everything else are not mine. I just enjoy living in their universe from time to time. No copyright infringement or anything nefarious is intended.


	2. Point Blank Range

**POINT BLANK RANGE**

(found on the cutting room floor after an editing session of Affinity)

There is a belief among those who go into battle that death does not come unannounced. That every soldier who dies in the heat of the fight hears the bullet that brings about their end. The one with their name written on it.

Jack heard his months before it ever arrived.

It had hummed a tune in the elevator.

It had cried out in dismay at a stakeout.

It had haltingly placed a small velvet box in his outstretched hand.

And now it stood, rocking nervously on the balls of its feet a mere three feet away from where he sat at a desk with drawers he could not open.

If only he could have opened them. He would have hunted for a pencil, dug deeply for a file…anything to keep his eyes from staring at the bullet that was hovering hesitantly, close enough to him that he could almost smell the shampoo it has used this morning.

Who knew lethal projectiles showered.

Who knew they could be so absolutely beautiful, even dressed in the oversized BDUs that were the only ones that would fit those willowy long arms.

And who knew a bullet could kill without ever even touching him. At least not where anyone could ever see.

The moment she walked into his office and closed the door he knew why she was there. Daniel had given him a head's up. It had come out as a seemingly unintentional slip, but Jack knew there was nothing unintentional about it. And he appreciated it. This way the mask could be perfectly in place, the smile neatly fixed, the congratulations ready on his lips. If he needed to, he could do sincere. And he would give her every ounce of sincerity he could muster. Because he was sincere in that he wanted only the very best for her. Even if it killed him.

"Carter?" He didn't mean for it to come out that curt. She looked instantly apologetic.

"Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to disturb you…I just saw that your door was open and…." Her voice quavered a bit. Anyone who didn't know her as well has he did wouldn't have even noticed. Jack did. He knew he could either make this hard or easy for her.

He opted for easy.

"My door's always open, Carter," he cut her off breezily. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh…" She seemed to have been expecting a different response. Maybe one of his typical smart-ass replies. It took her a moment to regroup. "I…I just wanted to drop off my preliminary analysis of the Asgard hyperdrive interface they've been working on for the Prometheus at Area 51. You'll see that I've made some recommendations for modifications to the design for the control panel and suggested that they incorporate an additional back-up redundancy subroutine as a security precaution."

He took the folder from her outstretched hand and gave it a perfunctory flip through.

"Great! I'll take a look at it…" he let his eyes rove over the already obnoxiously high stack of folders sitting on his desk. "Sometime."

He looked up at her, eyebrow raised. She was chewing her lip. Never a good sign with Carter. Jack glanced at the paper in front of him and considered pretending to go back to work. But he'd agreed he'd make this easy.

"Was there something else?" he asked finally, when the silence between them had reached a saturation point. She seemed to jump at the sound of his voice.

"No…" she stammered. "I mean…not really. Well…actually…."

"Out with it, Carter…you might injure yourself if you keep tripping over your tongue that way." He hoped that was a typical O'Neill response, one that would express just the right amount of impatience with a jolt of good humor. At the moment he felt neither. Just a dread sense of inevitability for what he knew was about to come.

He heard her take a deep breath.

"I told Pete 'yes,'" she said, in a rush.

He didn't miss a beat. He let the smile spread across his face. He willed happiness into his eyes. Not for her and Pete but for _her_…because she was happy…because she deserved to be…and because it was best for her if it went down this way

"Really!" He stood up. Standing was good. Movement would cover up any flaw in his acting ability. "Good for you. Congratulations."

Something crossed her face…the same something he'd seen that day in her lab when she'd first told him about the proposal. It was…disappointment, he decided, finally. With him. She'd given him a chance, then; she had given him a chance just now. He'd side-stepped it both times. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. For her sake. She needed to let go of him, to fly on her own. It was the best thing. For her.

"Thank you…sir," She sounded stiff and formal, the "sir" coming out almost as an afterthought. In that instant a wall went up between them. Jack could almost see it. For the first time, in a very long time, he felt utterly and completely alone.

The nothingness hung between them as before…only worse.

Finally, Jack recovered. He was only going to pull this off if he could manage to keep it light. He walked over to the coffee pot to fill his cup, only to discover that the pot was dry. Instead he futzed with some sugar packs, pouring them into his virtually empty mug. He didn't think Carter noticed, though. She was carefully avoiding looking his way.

"So…did you set the date?" Jack asked casually, pouring the third serving of sugar slowly into the mug.

"Uh…we were thinking maybe sometime late spring…early summer. Whenever I can get some leave…." Clearly she hadn't expected to be discussing wedding plans with him. She looked perplexed by the direction the conversation had taken, and she hadn't done any more than glance at him since he'd stood up—which was good, as five empty sugar packs now lay on the small table in front of him. He decided that was enough and headed back toward his desk.

"Just say the word, Carter. I'll see what I can do. Of course I can't speak for the snake-heads that are still out there…but I think we can manage without you for a little while."

Sam nodded, slowly…the way she did when she was trying to figure out why something just didn't add up.

"Okay…" her voice trailed away. "I…appreciate that, sir…"

"Good. Then it's settled. Oh…would you ask Walter to come in here on your way out…I think we're out of…coffee," he added, trying to dismiss her without actually dismissing her. He glanced up from under his eyebrows and saw that strange, perplexed look on her face. He was this close to over-selling it. To cover his tracks he picked up a pen and stared blindly down at the folder on his desk. Maybe if he stared at it long enough she would finally leave.

It worked.

"Yes, sir." She said it so quietly he hardly heard it. But he felt the movement of air in his office as she walked out the door and he was mercifully alone.

Who knew a lethal projectile could be so quiet.

And who knew loving one could be so fatal.

The bullet with Jack's name on it struck him at point blank range. A clean shot. Straight into the heart.


	3. Epiphany

**EPIPHANY**

(found on the cutting room floor after an editing session of Threads)

The blond head retreated around the corner of the house, followed by the sound of an engine starting and the squealing of tires. Any other time Jack would have made fun of Carter's legendary lead foot, but his eyes couldn't leave the empty place where she had just stood and there was nothing remotely humorous to be found in anything that had transpired during the past five minutes.

"Jack?"

Kerry's voice snapped him back to the reality that she was still standing next to him, a slightly bemused, slightly bewildered look on her face. Still, her presence barely registered. She was like a shadow, hardly there.

"Gotta make a phone call," he muttered. If something had happened to Jacob he needed to know. Jacob was his responsibility when he was on earth. And something had caused that flash of panic across Carter's face.

"What about the steaks?"

Jack looked over his shoulder and saw that the meat had become a sad casualty of his distraction.

"Uh…I dunno. We'll order pizza or something. I'll be right back."

It took Walter forever to transfer him to the infirmary; another five minutes before he got to speak with someone who actually knew what was going on. When he finally hung up the phone, he sat for a moment, letting the news sink in, feeling oddly like he'd eavesdropped on a private moment. Selmak was dying and taking Jacob with him, and Carter didn't even know yet.

He wished he'd waited before calling, given them the privacy a father and daughter needed. He'd been well within his duty to call, but still….

"Everything okay?"

Kerry had slipped into the house and was standing by the stairs, a plate of desiccated steaks in one hand, the forgotten salad in the other.

"Actually…no." He felt bad enough infringing on the Carters' privacy as it was. He wasn't going to share the news with Kerry. "I think I maybe need to…."

She interrupted him.

"Actually…I just remembered that I've got a report I need to finish before tomorrow. So I'll take a rain check on dinner, if that's all right with you."

Jack didn't need to be hit over the head with the obvious. She was gracefully excusing herself so he could go do whatever the hell it was he was supposed to do. The woman had class, he had to admit.

"Sure. Yeah. Hey…sorry about this…" he nodded at the ruined dinner. She flashed him a warm smile.

"Well, you were the one who bragged about your legendary grilling skills…" she held up the plate for inspection. Jack managed a weak grin. Suddenly he couldn't wait for her to leave. His whole world had just tilted all out of whack and he needed to figure out why.

Alone.

"So…I guess I'll see you…" he stammered, relieving her of the food and following her to the door.

"Tomorrow," she reminded him. "We have that ten o'clock conference call with General Hammond and my division chief."

Jack nodded, barely hearing her. _If I don't tell you now, I might never…._ Carter's words were suddenly playing over and over again in his head and his gut was twisting six ways to Sunday.

"Right," he murmured, absently. The door was nearly closed. She was almost gone. Except…she stopped and turned. Jack glanced up and saw that she was giving him an appraising look. In the low evening light her hair was afire with color that any other time might have earned her an admiring smile. But Jack was too startled by the way she was studying him. He dug down deep and gave her his attention.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe lunch."

"I won't hold you to it," she replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I have a feeling you're going to have a busy day."

For a moment it seemed as though she was about to say something more, but then thought better of it. Reaching up she kissed him lightly on the cheek and with an expression on her face he couldn't begin to decipher, headed toward her car. It was only when he saw her open the rear door and toss something in the back seat that he realized she had taken the small overnight bag she'd left at his place earlier that week. He was sure that meant something. Something significant. But he really wasn't up for trying to figure it out at the moment.

Kerry would have to wait.

Carter needed him.

Jack pulled up short. Where the hell had that thought come from? He was the last person Carter needed at the moment. And besides. He had no right…except as her CO…except as commander of the base whose infirmary Jacob was probably going to die in…. Okay. So maybe he had _some_ right. But not the way he'd first thought of it. And not the way he found himself wishing it could be.

No…the person Sam needed was Pete.

You see the thing is…the closer it gets, the more I get the feeling that I'm making a big, huge mistake.

That had been what she'd said, hadn't it? His brain had kind of quit working right around the words _"second thoughts about the wedding"_. He hadn't quite kept up with her after that. It had only been a beat or two later that what she was saying made any sense to him.

So maybe she _didn't_ need Pete. Maybe she didn't _want_ Pete.

Maybe she wanted….

Uh-uh. Nope. Not gonna go there. He'd started down that road before and it could only lead to a place where he ended up with a zat in his hand and Sam in his sites and a shot that had been damned near as fatal to him as it had to her. It was easier to pretend those feelings didn't exist. Easier to fool himself into thinking there was nothing more there than what he felt for Daniel or Teal'c or hell, even Siler. Because then he could fool himself into believing that should the day come when he sent her out and she didn't come back, he'd grieve no more than he would if it had been anyone else under his command, anyone else he'd sent out into harm's way. Because that was his job. And it was hers. And damn it, it was what they did.

So even if she wanted…and even if he did too…it wasn't possible. Not now. Not ever.

But he could be there as a friend. Just a friend. After all, what were friends for?

Jack stared at the plates of food still balanced in his hands. A dog would have enjoyed the steak. If he had a dog. He was still debating that one. Lacking a dog, he tossed them in the garbage and reached for the keys to the truck.

Yeah. He could be a friend.

And a whole lot more.

As before, the thought came unbidden. He countered it.

No. Not more. Not now. Not ever.

She deserved better. She deserved…

Pete?

Yeah. If he made her happy.

But if he did, she wouldn't have been standing there a while ago, trying to say what they both knew didn't really need to be said.

Except it did.

No.

Jack slammed the front door behind him and double-checked the lock for good measure.

No…it didn't need to be said. Because it couldn't be said. Because there was Pete and there was Kerry and….

Kerry. He'd forgotten about her.

There was no way that was going to work. How he'd ever thought it would, he had no idea. He'd have to tell her…explain. Let her down gently. She was a good woman. And they'd agreed that whatever happened, they wouldn't let it interfere with the job.

Keys in the ignition, he started the truck and pulled out onto the quiet street. The route was programmed into his brain and he navigated the roads on autopilot.

Why couldn't it have been like that with Carter? Instead of leaving it in the room all those years ago, couldn't they have just agreed that it wouldn't interfere with the job?

But then, chances were good that Kerry'd never be at the wrong end of his zat. And the job with her was a bunch of meetings and a mountain of paperwork. Her life didn't depend on him. His didn't need her to cover his six. And chances were good he'd never have to choose between her and his duty.

She was a safe bet. And he liked her. Hell. They were damned good together. But….

But. It wasn't enough. It should have been. She deserved it to be. But it wasn't.

If I don't tell you now I might never…

He couldn't get the words or the sound of Carter's voice out of his mind.

If Kerry hadn't come out….

…if she hadn't come out…and if Carter had said what he was damn near certain she was going to say…he'd already been forming some stupid reply to shoot her down, to assure her that all she was feeling was cold feet and that Pete was a great guy and he was sure they'd be very happy together.

But Kerry had stopped her.

And Kerry had stopped him.

And now he had time to think.

He really _hated_ thinking. It made his head hurt. Especially this kind of thinking, because it always led him back to the same place. That place where there was a force shield, or a zat, or a ring box or a book of regs as big as a goa'uld's ego. The place where he stood on one side and Sam stood on the other and never the twain could meet.

Well, not exactly…._could_ was never the issue.

_Should_ was.

At least for him.

Because the only one doggedly holding that force shield in place, the only one with the finger on the trigger of the zat, the only one feigning indifference over a ring box, the only one waving the fraternization rules high in the air…was him.

That thought alone stopped him cold in his tracks.

Jack pulled the truck over to the side of the road and threw it into park. He vaguely noticed the white knuckles of both hands on the steering wheel as he stared out the front windshield.

If I don't tell you now I might never… 

Never.

God, what an awful word.

Never.

That was one helluva long time.

Never.

Never again to have his day brighten just because she walked into the room.

Never again to believe that her incredibly beautiful smile was meant only for him.

Never again to touch her, comfort her, offer her his hand, his shoulder, his life….

Never.

Yeah. One _helluva_ long time.

Too damn long.

Jack took in a deep breath and slowly let it out as he rested his forehead on the steering wheel.

God. What had he almost done? How had he almost let this happen? It would be easier to lose an arm…a leg…a…well, some other important body part…than to lose Sam.

I'd rather die myself than lose Carter.

He'd said those words once, out loud. Said them and meant them. And the simple fact was, he still meant them. How he'd ever let himself pretend he didn't, he had no idea.

The truth raced through him like a jolt of caffeine. All the crap he had thrown in her way since then was just that…crap. Nearly losing her that one time had scared the hell out of him. But here he was…just as close to losing her in a different way. And he'd almost let it happen. No zat needed.

And she knew. She _knew_. And she'd tried to tell him. Tried to give him a chance to tell her. But he'd pushed her away. Twice. And if it hadn't been for Kerry, he'd have sent her away a third time.

What the hell had he done?

And how the hell could he undo it?

Maybe it was too late. Maybe he'd already sent her back to the cop, with his diamond ring and his beautiful house.

If that were the case, then he'd leave her alone. He wouldn't upset the apple cart. Who knew…maybe it _was_ just cold feet. Maybe she would be happier with Shanahan. But if there was the slightest indication…the smallest sign that she wanted to finish what she'd started in his back yard….

Shifting the gear into drive, Jack eased back out onto the road.

He'd have to have that talk with Kerry sooner rather than later. He owed her that. And then he could go to Sam. At the very least, he could be her friend. He hadn't even done a decent job of being that lately.

He had a lot to make up for.

Jack loosened his grip on the steering wheel a little and made the last turn onto the road to Cheyenne Mountain.

Yeah, a lot to make up for.

He just prayed he wasn't too late.


End file.
